Special Occasions
by ChildrenoftheBarricade
Summary: All my E/R one- and two-shots that I wrote for special occasions. Latest is Quatorze Juillet. A month after they marry, Grantaire wants their relationship to go further, but Enjolras is unsure. It's up to Courfeyrac to convince him.
1. Chapter 1

_**These are all the oneshots I've been posting for special occasions compressed into one fic. They are otherwise unchanged.**_

**A/N: OK, people, to celebrate my first Christmas as a Mizzie, I cooked up a little something. I seem to have neglected one of my favourite pairings, so here we have a fluffy E/R piece, twoshot, but will probably be quite long, because I ramble. And, just in case anyone as sad as I am actually looks it up, the Little Match Girl was written in 1848, I just wanted to use the reference. I don't own it or Les Mis.**

**24 December 1832**

**Grantaire**

It had been little over six months since the barricades. We'd all made it out alive, but you'd never be able to tell. I hadn't seen a single one of them since June. I'd tried not to let Apollo slip away, but he'd gone almost instantly, dragged off to run the country. He'd done some brilliant things, not that I'd expected any less.

But the others had disappeared as well, no word of warning or explanation. I heard something of their successes, but none of them had contacted me personally.

So now it was Christmas Eve. The snow was falling thick and fast, almost six inches deep. I was sat in some seedy bar, an untouched glass of absinthe before me. I didn't need it, I was already drunk on despair. Drinking now, breaking six months of sobriety when Apollo wasn't around, meant I'd picked the drink over him, something I swore I'd never do. I was completely alone.

Perhaps things were the way they should be, and the universe was at rights. Apollo's Patria had rewarded him for saving her, and he was happy and comfortable, set for life. The others would be perfectly satisfied. And then I was here, wasting my life. I doubted I'd see another Christmas. I doubted I'd want to.

I toyed with the glass. Apollo would never know. I could drink myself into oblivion and freeze to death in some alleyway. I wouldn't really mind. It would be like that little girl in the Danish fairytale that Jehan was so fond of. Instead of seeing my dead grandmother, I'd see my lost friends.

I glanced out into the street, watching happy little families out on the street. There was only one man on his own, head bent against the wind and snow, a scarf wrapped around his neck. A familiar scarf. One I'd bought Apollo last Christmas. Now I looked, the young man was blonde, but it couldn't be Apollo. It was my subconcious either trying to taunt or comfort me.

Apollo had loved Christmas. The idea of the winter wiping the slate clean and letting him start again completely fascinated him. It was the one time of year that he'd been happy to show he was truly human, to relax and have fun, and admit that he was still young. And I'd watched him, had hope that he wouldn't see fit to get himself killed, whilst he had the same hopes for me.

Even though I knew it coudn't be true, I abandoned the absinthe and ran out into the street. The bright red scarf and gold hair were a beacon in the monochrome landscape, and I chased the young man. "Apollo!"

He stopped and turned, and I caught a flash of bright blue. It was really him. My God, it was him, my Apollo, a man I thought I'd never see again. His eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks flushed with the cold. I walked towards him, still barely believing it was him. When he was a foot away from me, he threw his arms round my neck.

"Is that really you, R?" I hugged him back, not sure how this could really be happening. I was a little taller than him, so his head nestled against my shoulder. His ridiculously long hair was damp from the snow, his slender form surprisingly warm against me. "God almighty, I've missed you."

"Me?"

"Of course. I've missed you all."

"You hated me." He pulled away from me, looking hurt and bewildered.

"How on earth could you think that? I cared for you as much as ayone else. I had to be harsh to make you see. I was worried that you were going to destroy yourself."

"It worked. I haven't touched a drop since June. I've got no-one to watch over me anymore." He sighed, bowing his head, looking crushingly vulnerable. This wasn't how I remembered him.

"I know the feeling. I never know if I'm doing the right thing. In the past, Combeferre always told me when I was going too far, or you pointed out the flaws in my plans. It's scary when everyone relies on you, and there's no-one to guide you."

"I guess we've all parted ways."

"I hear from them every now and again, but it's not the same. I wish I could see everyone, just for them to reassure me that I'm doing alright."

I couldn't stand it. It was the first time I'd seen Apollo in six months, and he was just as lost and afraid and alone as I was. It was unbearable, and I had to cheer him up. "Ah, _mon cher _Apollo, it's not all bad. We may have been alone, but we've found company in one another. And it's Christmas. Paris is beautiful on Christmas night. Come on, I'll show you."

That prompted a smile, and I took hold of his hand to lead him away from the dark streets. "Your hands are freezing. Doesn't it bother you?"

"Not really. I don't really the notice the cold." I smiled. Of course. Why would the god of the sun feel cold? We were walking away from the darker part of the city where I'd been for the last half a year, and more towards the centre. It was brighter here, but not enough. The streetlights obscured the stars.

"So, how did the president elect of France end up in the slums of Paris?"

"I was heading home from a meeting." He was working on Christmas Eve? I didn't envy the poor boy, not at all.

"On your own? There's still trouble around, I'm surprised you're ever left alone."

"I'm not, usually. I slipped the leash. I just wanted to breathe. Christmas was the time we all felt free." Not sure where else to take Enjolras, I headed towards the Jardins du Luxembourg. Everything was pure white. The trees were frosted, snow thick on the ground, the lake frozen solid. The Jardins had been Jehan's favourite place, and he'd dragged us all out there more than once.

"It's beautiful," Enjolras said, eyes wide with wonder. He was like a little boy. I hung back as he looked around. I'd missed this. It was rare that I made Apollo happy, but just to see him smile was brilliant. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice what Apollo was doing until something cold hit my face.

He gave a crystalline laugh as snow dripped from my face. I wiped my face, raising an eyebrow at him. "Oh, you're a fool, Apollo. You're facing off a boxer."

"Nice thought, but I've been fencing since I could hold a foil. There's no way you can catch me."

That was a challenge if ever I heard one, and I took it up enthusiastically. Neither of us were quite as untouchable as we claimed, and were about evenly matched in skill. Before long, we were sprawled on the floor, sopping wet, laughing. Tiny white snowflakes clung to Enjolras's hair, eyes glittering as they reflected the moon and stars up above.

He wasn't Apollo. A god of the sun couldn't be so happy in the cold and dark. He was an angel though, my light in the darkness, my guide in the dawn. How had I coped without him?

More daring than usual, I reached out and took his hand in mine. "I've missed you so much. I never had faith, but I never needed it if I could see you."

"And you were my anchor. I did care about you. I tried to pull you back up. I didn't think you cared. I heard the jokes and the comments. I thought that that was all you thought of me."

And now I thought about it, he had tried to help. He gave me a thousand and one opportunities to make everything better, and I'd ruined them all. No wonder he thought I didn't care. "Oh, as brilliant as you are, you're oblivious. The others were sick to death of me waxing lyrical about you. I adored you." I turned to face him, rather awkwardly since we were both lying on the ground still. His eyes shined with hope and love, that I couldn't believe was directed at me.

Tentatively, inexpertly, I leaned forward and gently kissed him. His lips were soft and cool, and rather than pulling away, he leaned in and mirrored my movement, just as inexperienced but much more graceful than me. "_Je t'aime_," I murmured, barely audible. He laughed sweetly and returned the sentiment. I could have had all this so long ago if I hadn't been so foolish. I wondered if I was dreaming. Angels didn't come to people like me.

The feel of snow on my back, the taste of Enjolras still on my lips told me otherwise. This was real. And since he had completed my life, I had to prove that I wasn't just a burden. And I knew exactly what to do.

"I've got to go. Meet me here tomorrow at six o'clock. I'm going to make this the greatest Christmas you've ever had. I promise."

**A/N: Second part of this, from Enjolras's point of view, will be posted on Christmas Eve, because I reckon it will take that long to finish.**


	2. Joyeux Noel Part 2

**A/N: Well, this received a brilliant reaction, so many thanks to nightangel69, Smiley Smackdown, NieMaMnie and GooDKittyKT for the encouragement. Unfortunately, it might not all be fluff, because my angst obsessed brain has thought up an idea for a New Year companion piece that I'm considering. I promise all round happy endings, whatever happens.**

**25 December 1832**

**Enjolras**

I'd never been happier to see Grantaire. As much as I missed all my old friends, one night in the snow almost made me forget that I'd been alone for all this time. I woke up in the morning happier than I'd been in a long time. I was looking forward to meeting Grantaire that evening, and the day seemed to drag. Eventually, at half past five, I left the house, heading to the Luxembourg Gardens.

He was already there, looking extremely nervous and excited. He grinned when he saw me, a look of intense relief on his face. Had he doubted that I would show up? He threw his arms around me when I came close and gave me a gentle kiss.

"You're here."

"Why are you so surprised? I always keep my word. So what did you want me for?" Grantaire smiled.

"I've got a surprise for you. Here." He put a blindfold across my eyes. "Grab my arm, and I'll lead the way. Trust me?" I blindly grabbed hold of his arm, and heard him give a soft chuckle. I let him lead me away, trying to figure out where we were going. After we'd left the Gardens, I became disorientated and lost track of which way we were heading.

And then, there was a sudden wave of familiarity. I breathed in the smell of the Cafe Musain. I hadn't set foot anywhere near this place since before the revolution, trying to avoid remembering and being stuck in a nostalgic melancholy. "Grantaire, I'm not sure I want..."

"Trust me, angel. I'm not bringing you here to upset you. I have it all planned out." I heard the once-familiar creak of the door, the corridor leading into the back room. I'd walked there so many times I could probably have found my way through without Grantaire's assistance, but I didn't pull away from him. It was comforting to have support every now and again. Another door opened, and I was back in what was once my favourite place in the world.

"Grantaire..."

"It's alright. You can take the blindfold off." Hesitantly, a little afraid, I tugged off the blindfold. My jaw dropped. They were all here, all my friends, all those who I'd believed lost to me. Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Joly, Bossuet, Bahorel, Feuilly, Jehan, even Marius.

"_Mon Dieu._"

"I spent all morning tracking them all down. Turns out they miss you just as much as you miss them. Merry Christmas, angel."

Speechless, I threw my arms around his neck. I buried my head in his shoulder, regaining my voice. "Thank you. Thank you so much. This really is the best Christmas present you could have given me."

"It's the least I could have done for you. You mean the world to me."

I spent the evening greeting my friends, catching up on time missed out. It seemed like so much longer than six months, and I'd never been happier than when I was with them that night. I sat in my old seat next to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, feeling like everything was falling back into place.

At the end of the night, we all promised to meet up more regularly, with the next gathering planned for New Year's Eve. I stood out in the snow with Grantaire, reluctantly saying goodbye. We stood still for a few moments, arms wrapped around one another to protect ourselves from the cold.

"We don't have to split up yet. We could spend the night together," Grantaire suggested. "I won't try anything inappropriate."

"I trust you more than that. I'd suggest going back to mine, but that place isn't exactly home. It's more about work."

"Come to my place then. It's not exactly in the best condition, but it's enough." I let Grantaire lead me to his apartment, happy in a peaceful silence. We curled up in his bed together, shielded against the cold air.

"Thank you for today. It's been the best Christmas I've ever had."

"It was nothing. I would have captured every star in the heavens if it would make you happy. I love you."

"I love you too, Grantaire. Merry Christmas." I thought he'd fallen asleep, but his arm tightened around me.

"_Joyeux Noel, mon amour_."

**A/N: Well, I think I will write a companion piece from Combeferre's point of view, because E/R/C is an idea that I've been working on for some time. But that's that for now. Everyone should be thankful for this time of year; if Valjean hadn't stumbled upon the Sergeant of Waterloo on Christmas Eve almost 200 years ago, most of Les Mis might never have happened :-) So a Merry Christmas to everyone and Joyeux Noel!**


	3. Saint Sylvestre

**A/N: My New Year's piece, accompaniment to my E/R piece Joyeux Noel. (Yes SHRevolutionary, I did write it, finally. It's a little late due to a busy Christmas) A few side pairings are included as well. This should make sense without reading that. Hope you all had a good Christmas, and a Happy New Year to all.**

**31 December 1832**

**Combeferre**

New Year was fairly similar every year. We'd meet up at the cafe and celebrate, the night building up to the Midnight Kiss. That tradition had been Courfeyrac's idea. I'd later discovered that this was because he was Enjolras's cousin, and he loved thinking up new ways to irritate the poor boy And what would annoy him more? While he wanted to be making resolutions for a better, more productive year, Courfeyrac was smuggling in mistresses.

I didn't entirely hate the tradition. It had brought some good to us. Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta would end up in a tangle, and none of us had ever been sure who was meant to be kissing who, but they were happy enough. One year, a drunken Bahorel had accidentally grabbed Jehan, and they'd ended up inseperable. And every year, Courfeyrac would feel bad for destroying Enjolras's plans for the season, hug his cousin and plant a kiss on the forehead, declaring that he didn't want him left out of the celebrations. It was tradition. Traditions were a constant, stable, and that was why I liked them.

But every year, I regretted my own cowardice. I didn't normally consider myself easily afraid. I'd stood with my friends on the barricade, expecting to die, but completely unafraid. Every year, I'd sat at the same table with Enjolras, promising that this would be the year, this time I'd gather up the courage to tell Enjolras exactly what I felt. I'd always known that he was more tolerant than some others, and the difference between him being my dearest friend and my lover didn't seem massive to me. And every year, on the first stroke of midnight, I backed out.

This year, everything changed. For better, for worse, I wasn't sure. I refused to believe that in such a short time, Enjolras had forgotten almost five years of hating the drunkard. He'd been lonely and clung to the first glimpse of the past he'd been offered. I would have, should have found him,but some of my patients from the barricade had been in a bad way, and I'd never gotten the chance.

As always, we met at the cafe, but I was surprised to be the first one there. Usually, Enjolras was diligently working to finish some paper or other before the festivities, and Grantaire was making an early start on the drinking. It was late when they finally arrived together, and I felt a little sting of jealousy, but tried to ignore it. He murmured an apology about work keeping him late and sank into his usual seat.

The night went smoothly for a while, until Grantaire took an offered glass of wine without thinking. If anyone else noticed, they didn't let on, but I'd learnt to read the little signs from Enjolras. He knew that if Grantaire was drinking, the night would deteriorate. I saw the rush of disappointment sweep over him. Even in our childhood, I'd always hated to see him upset. I got to my feet and walked out.

Someone called out. "Combeferre, where are you going?" Enjolras grabbed my arm, and I reluctantly stopped."What's wrong with you?"

"You." He looked baffled for a moment. "You're upset. I want you to be happy." He smiled a little.

"I am. More so than I have been in a long time."

"I saw the way you looked at him when he started drinking. How can you be happy with him? He's a burden. You're worth more."

"Grantaire brought me back to all of you. He's far from a burden. If anything, me and my work are a burden on him. We don't have a perfect relationship, but neither do Jehan and Bahorel, or Joly, Bossuet and 'Chetta."

"I don't understand! He let you down over and over, mocked everything you stood for and slept through the revolution we spent years planning. Not only do you forgive him time and time again, you take him for your lover? You could have anyone in the country."

He looked hurt, and I mentally cursed myself. I didn't want to make things worse. "Why is this such a problem to you? I thought you were the one person I could rely on. We've known each other since we were toddlers, and you've always had faith in me. Until now. I'm going back to the cafe."

He turned away, and I bit my lip to stop a stream of angry curses from streaming out. Obviously this year would be my year to confess all. "Enjolras, wait!" He fixed me with that all-too-familiar look of bored annoyance. I had to talk quickly, or he'd lose patience with me.

"You're a visionary, Enjolras, one of the most intelligent men I've ever met, but you are completely blind to emotion. It's quite cute sometimes, but this is the one time I really need you to see."

"Cute?"

"It's not the point. Enjolras, for as long as I can remember, for at least as long as the Winecask, I've been in love with you."

He was speechless. I don't know whether I should have been proud of that or not. He bit his lip. "Combeferre... I had no idea."

"That's because I was your closest friend, and we were always close, and you just took it for affection. And I've been a fool. I've tried to take away the one person who's made you so happy."

"I'm sorry. Maybe if things had been different..." Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed. "Midnight," Enjolras murmured, glancing in the direction of the cathedral. He turned back to me with a smile. "I believe the tradition is set upon the twelfth stroke, so I have until then to explain my opinion. Combeferre, you are one of the most important people in my life. Just because I'm with Grantaire doesn't mean I have to lose you, or at least I hope not. I do love you, Combeferre, jut perhaps not in the way you hoped. You're my closest friend, my brother, and I don't know what I'd do without you. I won't choose between the two of you. It might be selfish of me to ask, but I hope you can be happy for me. I'd much prefer a brother who I can rely on through anything over a jealous lover."

Before I could say that he was right, and that I'd be more than content to be by his side, the twelfth stroke of midnight sounded. He leant forward and gently pressed a kiss to my lips. "If you ever feel discontented about our relationship again, at least take comfort in the fact that you were my first real Midnight Kiss. Now, I think we should head back."

I smiled. "I can't deprive your dear cousin of the chance to harass you." When we arrived, we discovered that Grantaire was still on his first glass of wine, rather than trying to become completely inebriated. He shared a slightly belated kiss with Enjolras, before returning to his usual table with Feuilly and Bahorel, leaving Enjolras with me and Courfeyrac. The conversation was light and easy, no awkwardness between me and my dearest friend, and for now I was happy to call Enjolras that. I knew then that it was going to be a brilliant year.

**A/N: Now all this is out of the way, back to regular writing. And to all of the people posting movieverse fics, I HATE YOU! The film's not out in the UK yet, hence I haven't seen it, so I can't read the stories, and they look so interesting! Two weeks tomorrow until I see it. *fangirl squeal***


	4. Saint-Valentin

**A/N: After the success of my Christmas and New Year pieces, I decided to write an E/R oneshot for all special occasions, all set in the same universe. While I don't consider Valentine's day particularly special, it is the closest thing to the 17th, which marks one year since I became a Mizzie, so I present Saint Valentin. Oh, and in case it's only obvious to me, Valentin is Enjolras, and Alain is Grantaire.**

It was Valentine's day, about five in the morning, and I was already up, to make sure everything was perfect. My own personal Saint Valentin - I'd made the joke about his Christian name at least a thousand times before, but today, it fitted - was still asleep, expecting his housekeeper to drop in in an hour or so to wake him, but not today. He was always working so hard, so today was for him to relax. I'd been planning it for a while.

It was about ten o'clock before Valentin started to stir, which was unsurprising, considering the hours he'd been working. He sat up and glanced at the open watch on the bedside table before giving a soft curse. "Alain, you're awake. Why didn't you wake me?"

"Relax, _cher_, everything is in hand. No work for you today. Happy Valentine's day." I produced a bunch of red and white roses and handed them to my Apollo, kissing his forehead. He obediently accepted the gift, but gave a sigh.

"I can't afford the time off. I appreciate the sentiment, I really do, and I'm incredibly grateful, but my work is not the most lenient or pliable."

He looked genuinely torn. "Don't worry. I know how jealous and possesive your mistress, but Patria can live without you for one day. Just one day. She's in good hands, I've dealt with everything."

He smiled. "Alright. If you say so. I'm at your disposal for the day." That was all I needed to hear. I made him settle back on the pillows.

"Well, first of all, I've arranged breakfast in bed for you. I promised Courfeyrac we'd meet him later, and tonight, I have a surprise for you." Valentin looked forlorn for a moment, a look which always broke my heart, no matter how fleeting. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't even think of getting you anything." I gave a sigh of relief. I thought it would have been something serious.

"I didn't expect you to. I didn't expect you even notice. It's just another Thursday to you. I did this just for you because I am a hopeless romantic and this is the one day of the year that I can display it to the world without looking like a lovesick puppy." He smiled a bit and leant back into my embrace, letting me feed him little pieces of fruit and bread, completely relaxed. It was good to see him at peace occasionally. I knew we did have to move when he was on the verge of falling asleep again.

"As much as I'd love to lie here in bed with you all day, _adore_, your dear cousin would never forgive me."

With a reluctant sigh, Valentin sat up. "Well, he's the only family I really stay in touch with, so I suppose I should humor him. And he looks like a wounded puppy whenever he's refused something. He acts like a toddler sometimes, and he's damned lucky that everyone finds it endearing."

"Come on then. We're meeting him at the Musain for a drink, just a little one. Then I'm taking you out for dinner."

"I thought it was a surprise."

"The surprise will come at dinner, I promise."

We met up with Courfeyrac at the cafe, where he was in a fit of frenzied excitement. Undoubtedly, this was his favourite day of the year, judging from the small pile of gifts addressed in various girls' handwriting. Lucky beggar. And, as always, his cheerfulness was infective. "So, my little cousin, how are you enjoying your first Valentine?"

"As opposed to your hundreds?"

"Jealous? I know I'm irresistable," he joked. "Aw, it's just your bad luck that you weren't born a girl. R doesn't realise how lucky he is. If any mistress of mine was even half as good-looking as our family, I'd never look at any other again."

I smiled. "Sorry, Courfeyrac, but you can't tar your whole family with the same brush. Valentin's looks obviously come from the other side of the family." After a look of mock offence, Courfeyrac started happily chattering away. When Valentin was away getting drinks, Courfeyrac practically pounced on me.

"Let me book a table at _Le Sorbier_ for tonight, please. I want to see this."

"No."

"Why? Come on!"

"I mean it, no. You're bursting to ruin his surprise as it is. I won't let you, I've been planning this for far too long. I promise, you'll be the first to hear about his reaction."

"Fine. I better be the first that you tell."

When we'd finished our drinks, Courfeyrac almost literally biting his tongue to keep quiet, I turned to Valentin. "We have to be going. Courfeyrac, tomorrow, I promise. I'll spill all. I know patience isn't one of your virtues."

He waved us off, and I walked to the restaurant the long way, through the Luxembourg Gardens. There was still a little ice in the pond, and it made me think back to our last walk there, at Christmas, that seemed so long ago and yet no time at all. It was just before seven when we made it to _Le Sorbier_, and I saw with a shock of exasperation that Courfeyrac had managed to get a table with one of his mistresses. _Sorry_, he mouthed. _Couldn't resist_. I'd planned tonight without his audience, but I'd get by.

The maitre d' had a moment of panic when he saw his customer, his jaw dropping at my companion. "Monsieur le president!"

"Not tonight, he's not," I told the man. "Tonight, we're just customers. Could you please show us to our table?" He obeyed, still sneaking furtive glances at Valentin. He remained oblivious to the attention he attracted, as always. Sat at our table, he smiled at me.

"So, what is it that you've been saving all day?" I nodded to a waiter, tipped in advance, who handed me two roses bound with a red ribbon, one red, one white. I'd spent hours debating which colour to get. Red stood for true love and his beloved revolution, but seemed a little tacky. White was for innocence. I made my mind up when I found that the two together meant unity. Unity was what I needed tonight.

"This morning, you were upset that you hadn't considered Valentine's day."

"I'm sorry..."

"Please let me finish." I didn't want him to make him feel bad, and I didn't want the chance to lose courage. "I ask only one thing of you, the greatest present you could ever give me. I have two things to say, but no doubt you'll guess the second from the first."

I pulled the ribbon off the two roses, revealing a plain, simple gold ring. "First, I ask you as the president. The best gift you could give me is making it legal for me to marry you."

He was dumbstruck for a moment, eyes fixed on the flowers and the ring. "Alain..."

"And, if you agree to my first request, then Valentin, _mon amore_, will you marry me?" He looked like he was going to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. I started to worry for a moment. "Valentin, please say something."

"I... This is definitely a surprise. Of course. Why would I say no?" There was a burst of cheering from the other side of the room, and in half a moment, Courfeyrac was at our table, a wild firework of energy. Valentin tried, and failed, to look frustrated. "I assume you've been in on this all along?"

"Of course. I've had to avoid you for a fortnight so I wouldn't let anything slip. Oh, I'm so happy, my little baby cousin's getting married! And I thought you'd try and be virtuous and lonely for the rest of your life."

"Courfeyrac, calm down. Surely I should be the overexcited one. It will be mine and Grantaire's wedding after all."

"I know, I know. You'll at least let me be best man?" Considering that I was now engaged to the love of my life, I would have agreed to anything. I smiled, and slid the ring onto Valentin's finger.

"Well, why not? Happy Valentine's Day, _mon amour_."

**A/N: I could probably keep going with these forever. The next one will either be for my 16th, in May (which is also the 151st anniversary of Les Mis being published) or June 6th. Hope you liked it!**


	5. Malade

**A/N: So, today is my sweet sixteenth, and I'm off to Glasgow to celebrate. But since my birthday coincides with the anniversary of Les Mis being published, I wrote the next part of my E/R fluffiness. Or maybe this is just an excuse to write E/R fluffiness. Either way...**

Being ill isn't all bad. This is especially true when the most important man in the country happens to be at your beck and call, nursing you. It also helps when he's gorgeous, adorable, and due to marry me in a month.

Alright, I felt a little guilty distracting Valentin from his work. He had to deal with me, Courfeyrac chewing his ear off about the wedding, and running the whole country. Both Joly and Combeferre had come to see me when Enjolras had mentioned I was sick. Joly was convinced that I had typhoid fever.

Enjolras panicked a little at that, which surprised me. I didn't expect my sure and steady Apollo to worry about one of Joly's hypochondriac predictions of doom. In the years I'd known him, he'd diagnosed me with every disease I'd heard of, and some I hadn't. Combeferre, though he no doubt wanted to diagnose me with something deadly, told me that I just had a bug and would be fine in a couple of days. Despite promises to the contrary, I was sure that he'd never quite gotten over all the stuff from New Year. Ah, well. Valentin was mine, I was his, and Combeferre couldn't do anything about it.

At the first opportunity I got, I grabbed Valentin around the waist and pulled him into bed beside me. "So, why did you freak out when Joly said I had typhoid? He's never been right about diagnosing me with something terminal before."

Enjolras sighed, leaning against me and closing his eyes. "Well, what if he was right this time? I'm scared that one day something like that will happen, and there's nothing I can do to stop it."

"Hey, you're not allowed to be scared. You're Apollo, remember? You can't worry about me when you have the weight of the nation on your shoulders. I'm fine. I don't have any deadly diseases. Even if I did, there's nothing you can do about it, so don't worry about the things that you can't change. Focus on what you can change."

He smiled. "Wow. That was amazingly deep and poetic for you. Since you're feeling so sentimental, you can deal with Courfeyrac today."

"What? He's your cousin!"

"Yes, and while I love him, he is the most infuriating person I have ever met. Maybe we would have been smarter not mentioning that we were getting married until the last moment."

"Like that would have worked. As much as you like to think otherwise, Courfeyrac can get any secret out of you." Enjolras sighed.

"I know. That hardly makes things better. He's planning bachelor parties, you know? Remind me why we're letting him plan our wedding?"

"Because neither of us know the slightest thing about weddings."

"I don't see why we have to. It would be so much easier if it was just the two of us and a couple of witnesses."

"That would do if we were planning on eloping, but you're the president. The nation's eyes are on you."

"Alright, alright, point taken. Now, you get some rest. We want you better as soon as possible." Enjolras climbed out of bed, tucking the blankets around me like I was a toddler. Not that I was complaining. Sometimes it frustrated me that I only had a little time with him, but it made times like this special.

I often spent time wondering what it would be like in the future. Enjolras and I would grow old together, if all went well. I'd never thought of Enjolras even making it to twenty-five, certain he'd end up dead long before old age had the chance to get hold of him. But we'd survived, and life went on. Things were getting better for everyone. He and I would be happy together.

Alright, so we probably wouldn't have a perfect life. He'll get annoyed at my drinking, I'll get annoyed with him spending so much time working. But that would be alright. I would be happy enough just to know that I had this chance with him. Maybe we could adopt a child, start a proper family.

First of all, of course, we had to get through Courfeyrac's circus show of a wedding. But even that, I could deal with. One day of humiliation would be worth it.

"Alain!" Valentin's voice caught my attention. "Are you alright?"

"Sorry, I was just daydreaming."

"Well, Courfeyrac will be here in a couple of hours. I suggest you get some rest until then." he bent down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I've got to go. Get well soon."

"I'll do my best. Anything for you, Apollo."

**A/N: Probably not my best, I have to study and only have a little time to do this. Next one will be better!**


	6. Mariage Part 1

**A/N: Happy barricade day! In honour of it, I have continued my E/R fluff to their wedding! This is a two shot, but I'm posting both parts today because I'm borrowing the computer and I can't post using my phone. **

**5 June 1833**

Despite the fact that Courfeyrac had been planning it for months, Valentin wasn't keen on a bachelor party. To him, it seemed pointless to go out and enjoy his 'last night of freedom'. Despite all his hard work, he still didn't know how to truly be free, still shackled to Patria in order to keep her on the straight and narrow.

Sometimes, I resented his precious ideals. It was so unfair that the people took their new liberties for granted when he, so full of life and promise, has to give up his own freedom to secure it. He barely has time to eat and sleep, let alone relax.

To him, our wedding is a way to gain freedom. An act of defiance against himself, to prove that the cause is satisfied and he can be human again. It's an internal battle, but it doesn't worry me. Compared to the internal conflict he faced a year ago, it's nothing

Courfeyrac was unconvinced. "Stop being difficult. This is the perfect opportunity for me to pour massive amounts of liquor down your throat, and I'll be damned if I'm missing it."

We both know that on the rare occasion when Valentin touches the drink, he handles himself incredibly, clinging to sobriety a hell of a lot longer than anyone else I know. But when he was a teenager, his cousin used to drag him out drinking and have to carry him home afterwards. It's part of the reason he avoids it now. He's grown up since then. But we all know that Courfeyrac is hoping for a repeat of those times.

"Fine. I don't want to look like a hung over wreck on my wedding day." Courfeyrac eventually conceded. He had a few glasses of wine with his cousin and Combeferre. At that point, Enjolras retired for an early night, Courfeyrac joined me and the others and Combeferre did whatever. Probably sticking pins in a voodoo doll with my name on it, wishing he was in my place.

Combeferre and I always knew that we'd never get along. At first, we'd tried, for Valentin's sake. But we just kept arguing over Valentin, over what was best for him, treating him like a child. Our fragile peace broke down into civility around Enjolras and silent loathing for the rest of the time.

But that was unimportant. I'd been cutting back significantly on the drink, so Valentin had told me he didn't mind if I came home completely hammered, considering it was a special occasion.

I gladly welcomed drinking competitions, dares and stupid bets. It was worth it to be in the company of all my friends, the only think that made the drinking pleasurable. Before, it had been a means to an end, a way to forget Valentin's disapproval and disappointment. Now, I didn't have to worry. It felt strange, though. June 5th. This time last year, he was the one up all night while I slept on, blissfully unaware.

I missed him. I don't consider myself overly clingy, but it felt to strange for our group to be gathered without him. He was hardly antisocial, but the poor thing was exhausted. I would have stayed in with him, but he felt so guilty when I put off a plan for him. He'd rather brave the loneliness than be a burden and see me unhappy.

I can't bear it. I could cope with Valentin happy, sad, angry, exhausted. Once or twice even while he was in the depths of despair and doubt. But I didn't know what to do with this one. He was completely new to romance, displaying the wary trust of a first time love. He was terrified that everything he did would make me abandon him and leave hom heartbroken. It tore my heart to pieces that he considered himself a burden to me. France was a burden to us, and that wasn't his fault.

I bore the loneliness as long as I could. My friends are amazing, but they're not Valentin. But I stayed. It will give him back some of his confidence, make him back to my sure, steady Apollo. And as for me, well, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Eventually, I could stand it no more. I made my excuses, making Courfeyrac promise to be at the house at ten o'clock sharp. Then I headed home.

Valentin was asleep when I arrived, but he stirred when I slid into bed beside him, instinctively curling against me. "'Taire?"

"I didn't mean to wake you, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

"Bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding." He was half asleep, not thinking, his silver tongue leaden in his daze. It was amazingly endearing, a sight afforded to a very lucky few.

"I take it that makes you the bride." He aimed a sleepy fist at me and I caught hold of it, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

"You didn't have to be back so soon."

"I was lonely without you, and you were so tired. Let's just call it a night. Big day tomorrow."

"Night," he murmured in return, falling asleep with his head on my chest. Tomorrow, we would be married. I think I can get used to this. here...


	7. Mariage Part 2

**6 June 1833**

When I woke in the morning, Valentin had already vanished. Combeferre was helping him get ready, which got me a little jealous, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. Today was about me and Valentin, no-one else.

True to his word, Courfeyrac arrived on time. He had the strange energy of someone who hadn't slept all night. Chances are he was drinking until dawn and couldn't be bothered with the couple of hours he had to get some sleep. He'd planned the entire thing, and I knew little, which was worrying. Valentin was supposed to be supervising, but when Courfeyrac wants something, he can wear his little cousin down. He's probably the only one of us who can.

"Come on, get up! This isn't the day to be lying around in bed. You're getting married, for Christ's sake."

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Doesn't matter. I came round with Combeferre this morning, and Valentin gave me one of his looks, so I switched to coffee a few hours ago." Caffeine or alcohol. I didn't know which was worse. I obediently got out of bed and got dressed. Courfeyrac fiddled with my clothes a little, determined to make sure I looked perfect. Like it would last.

"So how are you feeling?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on. Everyone knows it was love at first sight for you. Now you're actually getting married. It is kind of a big deal, you know."

"It didn't have to be. You're the one who planned all this, remember?"

"Getting cold feet?"

"As if." I was incredibly nervous. Not because I wasn't sure if he was right for me - I'd known he was the one for years. Not because I thought he'd bail on me - even if he couldn't care less about me, Valentin was always true to his word, and I was pretty sure he cared about me. I was worried that I'd mess up. It seemed like Courfeyrac had invited all of Paris to our wedding. Valentin, as always, would be perfectly composed in the public eye. He'd had practise. If I messed up, no-one would forget it. This wedding was monumental.

The nearer we got to arriving at the church, the more convinced I was that I'd embarrass Valentin. Courfeyrac had a little more faith in me. "Relax a little. It will come naturally to you, I promise.

"How can you know that?"

He sighed, as if he was trying to explain something simple to a stupid child. "Do you love him?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you want to marry him?"

"Yes."

"He loves you too, which means whatever happens today is meaningless. This wedding is about opening the door to other same-sex couples. It's not really about you and him. If you two love each other, you'll spend the rest of your lives together, no matter what. What happens today won't affect that." Just as I thought Courfeyrac was being sensible and meaningful, he ruined it. "Not to mention, it's an excuse for a good party."

"You'll be dead with alcohol poisoning before we make it to our honeymoon." He laughed, and my nerves were slightly calmed as we got to the church.

Technically, Valentin was playing the role of the bride. I waited at the altar for him while he walked down the aisle. At Courfeyrac's insistence, he was dressed in white, though he'd point-blank refused some of Courfeyrac's earlier suggestions, like wearing a veil or carrying a bouquet. White with his pale complexion made him look even more angelic than usual. He looked perfectly calm to an onlooker, but I recognised some of his nervous habits, such as fiddling with his hair and an inability to keep his hands still. I realised that this was just as difficult for him. I'd been the bumbling alcoholic, no-one expected anything of me. But he was the people's hero. They watched his every move. He was under a lot of pressure.

And everything went smoothly. Well, almost. We ignored Gavroche falling asleep halfway through the ceremony. We ignored a bridesmaid, one of Valentin's cousins, tripping over her dress. We ignored the fact that Bahorel and Feuilly had smuggled in a bottle of absinthe and were getting steadily drunker as we said our vows. Because Courfeyrac was right. As soon as we said 'I do', none of it mattered. We were together.

At the reception, Courfeyrac insisted that the two of us opened the dancing. Bride or not, it was wedding tradition. Despite being a good couple of inches taller than him, I let Valentin lead, as I didn't have the foggiest idea how to dance. It might have been part of his childhood education, but I'd never thought I'd have to know how to dance. It didn't matter. Just having Valentin in my arms, knowing he was mine and I was his in every way we could be was enough.

**A/N: Alright, incredibly cheesy, but I really don't care right now. I want to be cheesy and fluffy**


	8. Quatorze Juillet

**A/N: A belated **_**bon quatorze juillet**_** to all. On Bastille Day, it was the day after my aunt's wedding, meaning I was still getting sunburnt on the southeast coat. Definitely worth it. A lot of stuff has happened in the past couple of months leaving me little time to write, but it's all hopefully over. I've decided this E/R fic will be from Courfeyrac's point of view, since he played a pretty big part in my last couple.**

I hate every single person who works for Enjolras. I was sick to death of being told that he was too busy to see me. He can't work twenty four hours a day. Alright, maybe he did spend days stuck working before last June, but he always had moral support from us. Grantaire's hardly the same. As much as I like him, he tends to support Enjolras in abandoning rather than continuing his work.

But I thought the battle was won now. I thought his hard work was over, that this was the easy part. No-one seems to be having it easy. Everyone's working all the time, and I never get to see any of my friends. The only job I have is when they want to throw a big party, after the wedding was such a success. I am Chief Party Planner for the Presidential Party. And most of them seem like complete sticks in the mud who don't party often.

After the wedding, it was over a month before I saw Enjolras again. Bastille Day is our national day, so Enjolras declared it a national holiday. No-one has to work, and people were throwing street parties up and down the country. He droppped in at a few in Paris, to keep up appearances, and left Grantaire at one of them while he came to meet me. He looked a little tired, but that was nothing new.

"Finally slipped the leash?" I asked him. We met in _Le Sorbier_, where Grantaire had proposed in February.

"Oh, don't start. You're not the only one I haven't had time to meet. Jehan's heartbroken that I never made it to his birthday party last weekend, Bahorel says he'll have to look for a new boxing partner, and Joly's convinced I'm avoiding him because he's caught something deadly. I wish I had more time, but there's never enough hours in the day or days in the week."

"You don't have to..."

"Don't you dare tell me I don't have to do this, because I do, and you know it. The people chose me, Patria chose me, and I can't let her down. I can't let it fail."

He was frustrated about something, and it wasn't work. I thought back, wondering if I'd said something to offend him. "You know I was only joking? We miss you, but we know France comes first."

"I know. It's not that." He looked downcast for a moment. "It's Grantaire."

"Look, you've only been married a month. There's bound to be issues while you adjust, but I know you love each other."

"We both know that as well. Don't worry, we're not on the verge of breaking up. It's just... he wants a child."

I laughed. "Surely someone's explained to him that, pretty as you are, you are not a woman, and one is required to have children. Come to think of it, he should have worked that out on the wedding night."

A ghost of a smile, mixed with a bright red blush tinted his face. Perhaps if he had been a little more shameless when he was younger, the subjects wouldn't embarrass him. "Don't worry, I think he's well aware of that. We were talking about adoption. But I can't."

I was definitely not the settling down type, but I could see now that he was. He had everything worked out. A stable job with a steady income. A loving husband. Alright, it was unconventional. A stable job didn't usually take up every moment of life. A steady income wasn't normally large enough to support the entire population of a small town, and most men didn't have husbands. But he was secure. Any child would be fortunate to be taken in by those two, and if he could look after a nation, he could look after a child. I wanted to tell him all this, but I settled for "Why?"

"It wouldn't be fair. I don't have the time to look after a child. Grantaire would have to raise it single-handedly. I'd end up neglecting them, and they'd start to resent me." I resisted the urge to laugh, knowing it would annoy him. Grantaire may have resented almost the entire human race at one point, but he didn't have it in him to resent his Apollo.

"But maybe that's what he wants." That got me a strange look. "Not neglect, but to look after the little one. Maybe he's lonely, but he doesn't want to make you feel guilty. It makes sense. You go out to work, save your dear Patria from destroying herself, do whatever you do. Support your family. Grantaire will stay at home and look after the kid. Why shouldn't it work?"

I wanted it to work. I wanted to know that someone in my family could have a stable, happy family. And, as difficult as it would be, I knew that in the end, a family would make Enjolras happy. I tried one last thing. "And surely it's for the best for this nation. Raising the next generation, carrying on, ensuring the survival of your Patria."

Enjolras left, thoughtful. I didn't hear any news for a while, not even rumours. Three days later, I met Grantaire. "What did you say to Valentin?"

"Why? Did he change his mind? Are you getting a baby?"

"No." Then why did he look so happy? "We went to the orphanage the day after you saw Valentin. There was a pair of twins, just a few months old. Their parents died a couple of months back in the cholera epidemic, couldn't get to a doctor in time. A little boy and girl, and the resemblance is uncanny. They've got blonde hair like Valentin, and my grey eyes. So we're not getting a baby. We already have two, Belle and Gabriel."

"Gabriel? You named him after me?"

"You're the reason we have them. Let's just hope he lives up to the name better than you've ever done." When I went to meet my niece and nephew - alright, so they're my first cousins once removed or something like that, but anyway - I saw Grantaire was right. Belle looked more like Valentin, and Gabriel more like Grantaire.

I watched Enjolras hold his children, and I realised something. The rebel who'd brought down the government was long gone. He'd long since stopped following the idols who'd given us our national day. He was a husband, a father, a man who loved and cared about people. And that, not violence and bloodshed, would keep France on his side.


	9. Masquerade

**A/N: So, this is my ninth chapter (I can't really call them oneshots anymore). I think I might take it up to twelve, i.e. cover Christmas Eve and Day, and New Year, and then start again with a new storyline and new pairing, possibly modern day. So, happy Halloween to all, though I'm not entirely sure that it was celebrated in nineteenth century Paris, and I'll post the next chapter in December.**

Valentin was rushing around busily, talking to everyone, Belle balanced on his hip - Gabriel Junior was with Alain. On top of everything, I had planned a Halloween masquerade, at the Luxembourg Palace. I was sat at my cousin's desk, feet up on the table. Valentin was pacing up and rocking Belle, his hair dishevelled, a frown fixed on his face. Alain usually took the children during the day, but Belle wouldn't settle unless she was in the office, where it was much quieter than the nursery. I could see the stress in his face, the exhaustion well exceeding his tender age of twenty-three.

He was coping remarkably, but there were telltale signs. He was wiped out. At this rate, his hair would be grey by the time he was thirty. With a sigh, I stood up and took the nine-month old girl from Valentin's arms. "Relax a little, cher."

"Relax? Have you got any idea how difficult this is?"

I just smiled. When my baby cousin was stressed out, he snapped. He didn't mean to be rude, and he was hopelessly apologetic when he realised, but first, I just had to ride the storm.

"I know, but this can't be good, for you or the others. I'll make sure little Bella goes to sleep, but it looks like you need it more than she does." Belle was more or less asleep anyway, much quieter and better behaved than her brother. It was clear which twin took after which parent. I rocked her gently, knowing Valentin would snap at me if I was too rough with his baby girl. God help the first boy to court her.

She finally closed her eyes, and I handed her back to Valentin. "Right, listen to me, because I am older than you and therefore know better." He gave me a half smile. It was something, at least. "You're going to put the little one to bed. Alain will watch her and Junior for a while. I'll finish anything that needs finishing in here. You're going to get a few hours sleep, then tonight, you're coming to my party, and you'll enjoy yourself. Understand?"

He nodded, which was a bad sign. He usually disagreed with everything I suggested, for some unknown reason. Alright, there were a few very well known reasons, but that wasn't the point. "Valentin, what's wrong? Don't try and tell me it's nothing. I know you too well for that. Can you cope?"

"For now. I don't regret the twins, never, but it's hard to find a balance. I'm just trying to keep everyone happy."

"Well, stop it. Be selfish for once."

"Gabriel, my job is to keep the country happy."

"And what about you? Sweetheart, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you're going have to choose between your family and your mistress. Sooner or later, Alain will realise how stressed you are, and he'll blame himself. Now, bed. Your mother will be here in a few hours."

He obeyed, settling Belle down for bed, checking in on Junior, who was playing with Alain, and going to bed himself. Aunt Christine - Valentin's mother - was due to arrive not long before the party. She hadn't spoken to her only child in years after he left home. They paid his allowance, but refused to talk to him. They were angry at him for leaving, but that didn't mean they'd let their once beloved son starve on the streets.

The first he heard from his parents since he turned sixteen was a furious letter. Not only had he married without their approval, but he'd married another man. So they came to visit. By the time everything was arranges and they arrived in Paris, the twins had been adopted. Upon Christine seeing her gorgeous grandchildren, all was forgiven, and Uncle Andre had no choice but to follow suit. Andre was on business in Paris for a few months, so Christine had eagerly agreed to babysit the twins while I threw my party.

Not only had I convinced Valentin and Alain to come, but I had talked them in to costumes. Valentin, without question, would dress as an angel. He had the perfect colouring for it. So Alain, as his polar opposite, would be a devil.

I went into the nursery to see Alain. I hadn't completed Valentin's paperwork - not that my dear cousin actually expected or trusted me to do so. I didn't understand a word of it. Both twins were sleeping, Belle in her crib and Junior in Alain's arms. "Afternoon."

"I'm trying to get them to go to sleep before Christine gets here. My mother-in-law already thinks I'm an incompetent father."

He had a point. While my aunt was glad to have her son back and adored the twins, she was mistrusting of Grantaire. She thought him unworthy for the only son of the aristocracy. It was a shame, really, that she couldn't see him for the loving husband and father he is. "Where's Apollo?" Apollo and Winecask, once derisive and sarcastic, had become affectionate pet names for one another. I decided not to tell him about the pressure Valentin was under.

"Just having a nap. It's going to be a late one tonight. I'll wake him up when his mother gets here."

As if she was trying to make things difficult, Christine arrived early. I got him out of bed anyway, managed to get him into white clothes, wings and a halo, and he stumbled down to the nursery, yawning. "Evening, Maman."

She frowned at him. "Valentin, darling, you look awful. Are you coming down with something? Perhaps you should stay in."

"Don't worry, tante, I'll look after him," I promised. She felt his forehead. It was rather comical, really, considering he was a good eight inches taller than his mother. He battes her hands away.

"I'm fine. It just seems Junior is even more nocturnal than I am."

"I do wish you wouldn't call him that. You gave him a name for a reason."

Valentin just smiled. "Adrien's waiting at the front door," he told me. "I'll just say goodbye to the twins, and we'll head to the Luxembourg."

It was adorable to see Valentin saying goodnight to the kids. He gave them both a kiss, tucking the blankets around them before whispering goodnight. If someone had told us three years ago that it would be he, and not Marius - though Mme. Pontmercy was with child - would be fussing over his children, we would all have scoffed.

Aunt Christine kissed him on the cheek, and he flamed red. "Be good. Don't do anything foolish. Gabriel, you keep an eye on your little cousin." She had never quite come to terms with the fact her baby boy was no longer a baby.

There was a carriage waiting outside, and we all climbed in. For the masquerade, I was going to be a cat, though my costume was not as elaborate as Valentin and Alain's. I just had my mask, with its pointed ears and whiskers, with a tail round my waist. I gave Alain his mask, with red horns and black detail. Valentin's was white and silver, and I tucked a white rose into his hair. "Now, I want to see you teach Alain to dance," I told Valentin, earning a smile.

I did see them dance together, Valentin's graceful, practised movements managing to cover Alain's clumsy, inexperienced attempts. Unsurprisingly, they stole the show. Maybe it was Valentin's fame, or maybe just because they were the perfect couple. Either way, they caught the attention of everyone in the room.

At the height of the party, when everyone was there, Valentin climbed on to the stage with the orchestra and asked for attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to make an announcement."

Silence descended on the room, and Alain sank into a seat beside me. "What is he doing?" he muttered.

"Your guess is as good as mine.

"Ladies and gentlemen, for almost a year and a half, I have served the nation, trying to do my best for her. And a few months ago, I married, and adopted two children. And in truth, I'm tired. I want more than anything to keep serving the people and my family, but it's difficult. The further I am stretched, the more likely that I will fail both."

His eyes found me in the crowd, and he smiled. "One of my dearest friends told me that I would have to make a choice between my family and my mistress, my country. In the end, it was easy. My family drive me insane." Alain tensed beside me. "My children are infants, and they keep me up at all times of the night. At times, I just can't deal with them."

He wouldn't be so heartless. Alain's eyes were wide with shock and horror. Valentin smiled again. "Now, at this point in the proceedings, I think my husband is considering divorce, but I hope he'll let me finish before he walks out. Yes, my family drive me insane, but I love them all the same. And I could never abandon them. But something has to give. So, before I disgrace myself and people get hurt because I have made a mistake, I am resigning the presidency, effective immediately. I am not turning my back on the people. I simply feel that there are people better suited to the job than I am. Thank you all for your attention, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the night."

Well. That was unexpected, to say the least. Alain turnes to me, the relief clear in his face. "Did you have something to do with this?"

I gave him a guilty smile. "Something had to give, or everyone would suffer. Now, make the most of it. The people's champion is all yours."

We headed home - I'd spent enough nights lodging with Valentin to call it home - in the early hours, exhausted. Valentin fell asleep on Alain's lap. The rose was long since gone, his mask on the seat beside him. He was roused when we got to the house, staying awake just long enough to scramble up to bed. I went in to see Aunt Christine before retiring myself.

She was rocking Junior back to sleep, Belle still spark out. Clearly my little nephew was nocturnal. "Hello, dear. How was your party?"

"It was fine, tante. I think I might have fixed a few things."

Christine set Junior back down in the crib with his sister. "Aren't they just adorable? I wish I could watch them more often."

"Oh, don't worry. Im going to drag Valentin out for nights out a lot more often."

"Spending all your times at parties and balls is hardly responsible."

"Ah, well. We may as well make the most of parties and balls while we're young enough to enjoy them." Now I had to convince Valentin that it was a good idea to go out more. But that was for another time. I gave Christine a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Goodnight, tante. Happy Halloween."


End file.
